Darkness fell early over the duke’s mansion. Leaving the servants finishing their day behind, Flora naturally headed to the Duke’s room.

After knocking and opening the door, she found the Duke waiting for her, having finished his preparations for bed. Moreover, he was lying on the bed with his large frame covered only in a dark robe.

“Why are you so late?”

Flora immediately went to lock the balcony latch first and drew the curtains.

After the Duke assigned her this new duty, she naturally took over the master’s bedtime attendance that Yulvi had previously handled.

“I came as soon as I finished my work.”

“It feels like you’re protesting because I gave you more work.”

Not even properly covered with a blanket, he took a very comfortable position with his hands clasped behind his head.

Through the gaps in his robe, the Duke’s firm physique was faintly visible. His body, trained as a knight, was more solid and perfect than the large statues in the corridor.

Flora quickly lowered her gaze.

“Aren’t you going to cover yourself with the blanket?”

“Blanket…?”

He tilted his head like he’s hearing something strange, then twisted his lips after looking at his attire. Flora’s attempt to avoid looking amused him.

“You’ve already seen everything, why are you being so dramatic?”

She was left speechless at the blatant criticism. Not content with that, he deliberately stretched out his long legs. The movement caused his robe to roll up, revealing his firm thighs.

It seemed so deliberately provocative that words burst out of her unconsciously.

“I never said I wanted to see it again.”

“That’s unfair. I don’t even remember seeing your body, while you must have had a good look at mine.”

“…I don’t remember.”

Flora answered honestly. Since she had spent that night being swept away by him in a pitch-dark room, this was the first time she was properly seeing his body.

Claude laughed self-deprecatingly as he watched her intentionally avoiding eye contact.

“Well, you were probably too busy rolling around to notice my body.”

The tips of Flora’s ears turned slightly red. She couldn’t understand why the Duke kept mentioning that night.

“So how was my skill? Surely it wasn’t that terrible…”

He asked as if testing her. His tone was strange, like he was implying it wasn’t his first time, though it was hers.

Flora answered by pressing her lips firmly together. Perhaps not expecting an answer, he didn’t ask further.

Eventually, he sat up and took out a small glass bottle from the bedside drawer and drank from it.

“Take naps as needed. Ah, but that doesn’t mean crawl into my bed again.”

His seemingly considerate words ended with a warning.

“I had no such intention.”

Her way of speaking, not knowing how to be indirect, was always straightforward. Finding her consistency quite amusing, Claude smiled inadvertently.

Flora blew out the candlelight on the bedside table as she watched the Duke move into bed. Deep darkness immediately filled the room.

Flora settled herself under the window near the bed, resting her chin on her knees. The Duke would fall asleep soon after taking his medicine, so she just needed to stay quiet until then.

As the noise ceased, various thoughts intruded. Why did she have to substitute as his bedtime guard?

Hadn’t that one unexpected night been unpleasant?

And… did he have extensive experience?

All sorts of truly strange thoughts filled her head.

Suddenly feeling a gaze, she turned her head and met eyes directly with the Duke, who had his head propped on his raised elbow. His ash-colored eyes reflected in the candlelight showed a gentler light than usual.

He spoke abruptly.

“I can’t sleep.”

“…The medicine’s effects should take about ten minutes.”

“It’s already been an hour.”

Had it been?

It seemed quite some time had passed while she was lost in thought.

“Sing me a lullaby. That might help me sleep.”

“I don’t know any songs. I’ve never sung before.”

“Never?”

“…No.”

Flora nodded in response to his strange tone that seemed to question how that could be possible.

During night watch, she had sometimes heard bored soldiers playing grass whistles with plucked grass. They’re more like melodies than songs.

Since coming to the duke’s mansion, she had seen Mary occasionally humming, but she had only watched without paying attention to the tune.

“Hah… You’ve lived quite a dull life.”

The Duke muttered with a long sigh. It felt more like he was talking to himself rather than expressing sympathy for her.

It was true, actually. Flora’s daily life had only become more colorful since coming here.

Before that, every day was an extension of her life under threat, a continuous state of tension.

Suddenly, sitting here with her bottom on the warm floor felt strangely unfamiliar. Laughing and chatting with colleagues… even this moment of having trivial conversations with a master she could barely dare to look at before.

Above all, the fact that this man had held her in that bed just a week ago felt as unreal as a distant dream.

Perhaps she too had been dreaming under the influence of medicine.

Thinking it might be easier to dismiss it that way, Flora buried her face between her knees.

After that, there were several rustling sounds of bedsheets moving, suggesting he still couldn’t sleep. Then the Duke, whom she thought was asleep, spoke again.

“Let’s talk. Something interesting.”

“…I don’t think anything I say would interest you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, so just say anything.”

Unable to find suitable words, Flora eventually brought up the story of Mikail’s orange pie from a few days ago. The Duke listened quietly to the unremarkable story as if it were a lullaby.

Until the morning sun rose, no one invaded the room.

* * *

The next day, as Claude stepped into the imperial palace to attend the nobles’ meeting, he frowned at the blazing sunlight.

‘Wretched weather.’

He thought to himself about the sky devoid of even a hint of cool breeze.

The investigation into the assassin’s identity was still at a dead end. Despite thoroughly investigating for over a week with his family’s knights, they couldn’t even find witnesses who had seen them climbing the walls, let alone identify them.

Who could be behind it?

Though he hadn’t particularly made enemies with anyone, it was difficult to narrow down suspects given the tumultuous period following the war’s end.

As he passed through the familiar gallery and was about to enter the corridor leading to the Emperor’s palace, an unpleasant voice stopped his steps.

“Duke Heinst.”

Claude slightly narrowed his brows with instinctive disgust.

It was Marquis Bishrom Sternbrow, the Emperor’s close associate. More precisely, he was someone Claude found extremely distasteful, who acted as if he were something special by currying favor with the Emperor.

Approaching leisurely, Bishrom stroked his lion-tail-like mustache gently.

“I hear you’ve acquired something interesting at home.”

“Something interesting…”

Claude smiled faintly, immediately understanding what he was asking about.

He wondered what fault the man would find today, and sure enough, it was about that again. More accurately, it was rather uninteresting.

“Your habit of asking what you already know remains unchanged.”

“You must be sick of the soldiers you’ve seen in the south, but it seems you’ve taken a special liking to that woman.”

Claude inwardly sneered as he watched the other person’s weasel-like eyes stretch sideways.

The Marquis, who had tried to take under his command a soldier the Emperor showed interest in, seemed quite displeased that Claude’s intervention had disrupted his plans, and brought it up whenever he could.

“Well, seeing His Majesty‘s interest, she must be quite the beauty.”

“I too am not without desire for talented individuals…”

Claude replied without any particular emotion.

“My… That’s even more regrettable then. Don’t get too attached. She’s His Majesty’s person after all, isn’t she? No matter how beautiful she may be, it would be disloyal for a subject to harbor other thoughts about what belongs to His Majesty.”

The Marquis led the conversation like someone determined to scratch at Claude’s nerves. He had clearly been waiting for him on the path to his private audience with the Emperor.

“Marquis… you speak as if you’re hoping for that outcome.”

“How could that be? I merely speak out of concern that the Duke might suffer unsavory rumors because of one woman.”

Additionally, the Marquis tilted his head slightly and stared at Claude’s face.

“Oh my… You seem to have had trouble sleeping. Your complexion looks quite poor.”

It was a statement loaded with strange nuance. Claude responded with his usual slick smile, unmoved.

“I’ve been too busy dealing with the aftermath of the defeat to find time for sleep.”

The Marquis’s eyebrows drew together at his smooth face that seemed to take nothing seriously.

“Mind your words. It wasn’t a defeat in war, but rather a cessation of hostilities, wasn’t it?”

The Marquis sternly cautioned Claude, bringing up a point the Emperor was particularly sensitive about.